


Laufeyjarsón

by cukibola



Category: Norse Mythology, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drowning, Gen, Use of theories, not totally mythological for storytelling purpourses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 11:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17600858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cukibola/pseuds/cukibola
Summary: What was doing Loki Laufeyjarsón before arriving to Asgard?





	1. Fedgar

Of all the jötnar, certainly Fárbauti was unique in its kind. Many may had categorized him as a muspil, for where his power came everything burned; for others he was a sjórisar, for once he passed by somewhere the rain fell; using that same logic for others he was a hrimthur. They never called him risar, etin or turso, because it didn't come to mind... or because they didn't dare to say it to his face. And don't even think of calling him as one of those annoying spirits! No, he was something more primordial, something more special. Wherever he hit, too many things happened to classify him. He was a great one from Jötunheim. No, he was a great one in the Nine Worlds under the Yggdrasil.

And yet, it seemed that it would die when he did. Many years ago, he had been married to a great woman. Even in that moment he could heard her voice advising him, and sometimes he even felt her arms around him when he needed comfort. She had given him two sons named Helblindi and Byleist, who despite being two strong and healthy men, had inherited little from him, not only with respect to their abilities, but also to their achievements. Unable to bring the surname Fárbautissón to the glory it deserved, this great man had committed a whole act of pride by marrying an asynja, Laufey.

The problem was that this woman refused completely to lie with him, and sincerely, having seen her so short and skinny had frightened Fárbauti. She would never give him a strong son! Besides, he hardly really knew her, for she practically fled from the bed after the ceremony, and had not seen her since then, except when there was some official act with his lord Váfthrudnir. He was sure that from that union nothing would be born, and yet there he was, in Mundilfari's house, where one of his daughters (the ugliest and most like him) watched him inquisitively with huge grey eyes, making him even more nervous.

"Do you want to know if any of your children will be famous?"" he said.

"Exactly."

The little girl rolled her eyes, opened her mouth and slowed her breathing. He couldn't believe that someone as young as her already practiced Seid magic; if he still had some kind of respect for someone like Mundilfari, he lost it altogether. How was it possible that, at three years old, she could already use sexual magic? And how had that kid managed to get laid? He was deeply disgusted, but that sensation disappeared when, with a shriek, several voices spoke at the same time from the witch's mouth:

"What do you wish to know, Fárbauti?"

"I want to know if one of my sons will be of any use," he replied irritated at having to repeat his concern.

"You will have a son who will be remembered for all centuries; a son whose name will shake many civilizations and peoples, and who will be vital to many civilizations and peoples."" He said, "You will have a son who will be remembered for all centuries; a son whose name will shake many civilizations and peoples, and who will be vital to many civilizations and peoples.

"Is that son Helblindi or Byleist?"

"No. You will have another son, someone who will prove to be a worthy successor to your chaos and destruction and a worthy successor to his mother with his tricks and mischief."

"Of his... mother?"

"He will be your first and only son with Laufey."

"I will never touch anyone so weak! No matter how much you speak, harpy, your prediction is false!"

"Don't you dare contradict us! If he wants an heir so badly, he already has the instructions for it."

Mundilfari's daughter regained her usual eye colour, and the first thing she saw was the questioner raising his fist and shouting insults at her until her father could throw him out. She could hear that he was still angry, judging by his insults, and wished that he did not actually commit the vile act to which he was destined.

She was wrong. Fárbauti meditated on her words as he took his boat and returned to Laufgroeney. Obviously, a new son was the most suitable solution if the others were useless. Besides, Laufey, if she wanted to be a good wife, was supposed to give to that champion, it was her duty. That's why he had paid so much for a goddess! And no matter how disappointed it was to find that midget skeleton (not in vain was nicknamed "Njál") instead of the warrior he was waiting for, they had those marital obligations, whether she liked it or not. If necessary, he would take her by force, so it was better for her to fall in his attempts to seduce the woman attending a withered pine tree of his island.

Physically, he was not attracted to her. His old wife would have passed as a Valkyrie: tall, strong and of golden hair. Almost like Freya. On the contrary, Laufey's constitution was not only ruinous, her eyes were green and very close together and her red hair was badly cut and scraped, not to mention her sharp face and fingers and the freckles that stained her skin. An antithesis that remained in the personality, because where the first one was brave, but wise and prudent, this one was a coward too intelligent. In Asgard they had conned him, no doubt, but surely they would be wetting their pants just thinking of the big son she would gave him. With a gallant gesture he stepped down from the ship and approached her, who was surprised when he kissed her hand.

"Tell me, Laufey, is my lord Váfthrudnir here?"

"No, but the pines and elm trees alerted me to a grave danger and I came to their aid, though I found nothing grave."

"They must have been mistaken," and he continued with his flirting that made her take steps backwards. "Wife, do you know how beautiful you are tonight?"

"What's going on? You would never tell me such things..."

"I've just changed my mind about you."

"I didn't do it."

"Well, you'd better do it."

Laufey retreated and finally fled towards the lush interior. Fárbauti didn't think much more about it and started chasing her, not losing sight of each other. He knew she would soon fall weary or stumble, and then he would jump on his frightened prey that cried out for help that would never come: both Helblindi and Byleist and the slaves would be in the cliffside corridor, resting deeply. Surely that would be the destination of the asynja, where, if she made enough fuss, she could get rid of her husband's dark intentions. She had to avoid it at all costs.

Just when they could see the wooden structure Laufey stumbled upon a root and Fárbauti was able to catch her. She kicked and shouted, insulted him and finally kicked him in the crotch which made him bend in pain and set her free. Angry, he continued his chase, but fed up with the little game he threw a small ray at the woman that made her fall paralyzed just in front of the door, so close to her goal. Tired, he held her by the neck and began to tear her dress, showing her breasts, which ignited enough desire to give him an erection and to be faster and more violent in his task, especially when she managed to regain mobility.

"Fárbauti!" she cried, "If you let me go right now I promise I won't say anything! Don't do it, please!"

Her supplications were of no use. He thought he heard his wife, his first wife, also asking him to stop. Unfortunately, the anger at being humiliated by someone like Laufey, so inferior in strength and size, and his sickly desire to obtain a supposed son of such power predominated in him, and nothing would stop him.

As a last resort, she asked for help from the pines, which rose up and attacked the jötun. This one did as before, only with so much violence that the hullabaloo of rays almost burned the house. From the dread, the wife shouted again, now nailed in the place. Fárbauti emerged from the flames and without hesitation tore off her stockings. No matter how loud she screamed and asked to be left, in the end she could only embrace her knees as she cried.

"I hope your son is worth of it."

And Fárbauti entered the corridor slamming the door and leaving her alone. Laufey did not reopen his mouth or make sounds even when Helblindi and Byleist questioned her presence in what they called their home in very disrespectful ways. She only dedicated herself to her trees as her belly swelled month after month. Every hour she had several slaves on top of her, especially in charge of making sure she didn't abort, watching her movements.

That was no life, she thought while her vagina tried to expel a baby after nine long months of sadness. Immersed in great physical pain she wished everything to end for her at once, and even if she did not return to Asgard, to Fensalir with his queen, she did not care, only wanting to get rid of her grief selfishly. She squeezed the hand of the völva Gróa when she felt its head popping out as she closed her eyes waiting to go to Hel.

She knew that she had not died as soon as she heard a cry and the völva declared that she had had a healthy child, a child who now claimed his mother. She took him in her arms, trembling at Gróa's insistence. He seemed so fragile and helpless then, a creature to protect above all else. A feeling of warmth flooded his chest and for the first time in a long time she felt not only strong, but genuinely happy as well. She carefully narrowed the baby, whose crying gradually ceased until it stopped, revealing his eyes of a strange color: yellow. Taking a cape of the same color she wrapped him sweetly as she smiled at him and her own tears of happiness fell.

Fárbauti entered, breaking with that atmosphere of calm and love. He pulled the improvised matron away and pulled the baby out of his mother's arms. The baby cried again because of the violence of the situation and his father's lack of care. For the first time in almost a year Laufey, carried by a maternal instinct she never thought she would have, decided to fight and grabbed his arm and demanded that he return her baby with as much vehemence as possible after giving birth so soon before. However, she was still weaker and was thrown easily, falling on the bed. Gróa came to help her, but immediately had to stand before the grunt of the jötun.

"Why are his eyes yellow," he grunted, "have you given birth to a damn nokki, woman?"

"What's wrong with him? He's a jötun like any other!"

"This isn't mine! You must have cheated on me with someone else, you slut!"

He raised his fist and threw the newborn into Gróa's arms. This woman was left as a witness to the punch the mother received. She turned her head and gave her aggressor a sardonic smile full of rage, allowing some previously hidden sharp teeth to be seen. Either of these two elements caused him to withdraw while the assaulted woman cleaned the blood that fell from her lip as soon as a tooth was repositioned. The good woman who had acted as a matron knew that a fight was coming, a real fight; many times she had seen her son Odin make that face when some impertinent man asked for Freya's hand or tried to kidnap her, and this was confirmed:

"You've already destroyed me once. That's your son, the result of the rape you committed against me, and if I lie, may Thor the Giantslayer come and blow your head off!" screamt Laufey from the top of her lungs.

Nothing happened. Fárbauti grunted at the knowledge that among his sons there was one of those beings, an annoying huldurfolk. Not only that, he was supposed to be the great warrior who would give his family fame and fortune; who knows what kind of fortune that would be. The best thing would be for this child to grow up with Laufey and to keep his presence as far away as possible from Helblindi and Byleist, who would be relieved to know that they were continuing with their rights with respect to the newly arrived brother.

Or, well, sister, because as soon as Laufey got back to the subject of controversy and went to wash it with Gróa so that it would shut up, both found it strange that she was now a girl. Who knows, maybe the witch kid was right and she would bring glory to that lineage... but marrying someone big. Or who knows, maybe not. With an apathetic gesture she immersed her offspring in the bucket of water and decided to continue as if that were the most normal thing. Anyone who harmed her baby, her Lódur, could already tremble.

"What name are you going to give him?" asked Gróa, making the thought of his company accelerate: if he said the real name, the one he intended it to be, he would be known by them and surely by the royal family in Asgard; it would be easier to defeat him. She would not allow it.

"Well, since he is a nokki, what less than to call him Loki?"

The witch took a bowl full of blood and sprinkled this liquid on the head of one who since then has been known as Loki "the Nokki" Laufeyjarson, whose mischief, bad or well-intentioned, effectively brought his name to be the best-known. Laufey was proud of her work, and as Fárbauti had planned, it was she who practically had the exclusivity over Loki.


	2. Svíkja

Laufey had told him that normally the æsir do not have a real childhood, including her, because they were children on the first day of life, teenagers on the second and adults on the third. This particular trait had been present since Búri. On top of that, from that day onwards they could age until ages that neither Elli, the incarnation of old age, imagined, and to avoid it they had to eat some golden apples that other gods from another place gave to them, and that the elf Idunn took cared for. Loki did not have that process, he grew up like any other creature under the Yggdrasil, and he did it in a singular dichotomy, without being neither ás nor jötun in his culture, always listening to very different versions of the same story:

When he went with his mother to shop, to fish, to the forest or during the many moments when they were alone at home taking care of the ashes, she told her about Ymir. For her, Ymir was born of the eitr, the primordial poison of Ginnungagap, and sucked liters and liters from the cow that had been born of heat and cold, Audumbla. From him were born a jötun, a gygi and a six-headed dragon, and they and their offspring annoyed the animals and plants that had grown in the turso's sweaty body. Wise powers of the Yggdrasil then created Nerthus, who was the goddess of the earth with her veil, and god of the sea without it. Its aim was to stop the evil giants, but they divided it in two: Njörun the female part and Njörd the male; not satisfied with that, they encouraged them to the incest and the greed for gold. Audumbla then devised a plan and from block of salt she carved out Búri, the god of tools who initiated the Æsir race, great warriors who, fed up with the evil that Ymir and its sons were committing ended this being's life, drowned this evil people in their blood, except for two in an act of piety; and then they created the Nine Worlds. They fed worms with the flesh of the dead giant and from them were born elves and dwarfs, to whom they later delivered two of these new realms. They also let the lineage of Njörd and Njörun live in peace in the realm of Queen Vana, Vanaheim. Even Odin himself married the beautiful Freya to show his goodwill after having created the humans and established them in Midgard, where, although the resentful jötnar did evil on them, were protected by his firstborns Thor and Meili.

However, when his father and brothers received visitors and he played an instrument such as the violin with delight, they made him recite a very different one: in this one, Ymir was born when, in the same primordial void, Muspelheim and Niflheim had passionately loved each other; and it lived together with his sister, the cow Audumbla. Both took care of each other, he sipping his milk with care not to disturb her and she licking his sweat and Niflheim's salt. From Ymir were born two jötnar and a six-headed dragon that would protect them from some supposed evil, despite the fact that they and their offspring lived peacefully together with the elves and dwarves, taking on the role of forces of nature. It was these first three jötnar, the first three elves and the first three dwarfs who created Nerthus, at the same time man and woman, at the same time land and sea, at the same time covered and discovered. Sadly, Nerthus collapsed and split into Njörun and Njörd, who happily lived their love. Until one day, Audumbla carved by mistake into a block of salt Búri, the first ás, whose lineage reached until Odín, Vili and Ve, who murdered the innocent Ymir and created seven other realms. In two they made the elves and dwarfs settle separately, exiled the few survivors of the drowning jötnar to the least fertile, the one of fire and the one of ice; and after Vana's long-suffering supplications, the lineage of Njörd and Njörun were allowed to live in Vanaheim, though only after Freya married Odin. Since then the Jötnar swore to avenge their ancestor, and anxiously waited for that day, despite the attempts of the Giantslayers to slaughter them.

Year after year, for almost fifteen, he honed his skills with the sweet violin, the quiet lyre and his melodious voice and sharpened his oxidized sword, his unfortunate wit and his viperine tongue. Yes, he knew very well what his conception had been like, his mother having told him from the very first moment almost like in a lullaby. Loki didn't like it much, much less that the idiots Helblindi and Byleist constantly reminded him of it, but he knew that they were the elders and the favorites, and that he was nothing more than a nokki, so he just laughed at their grace and continued longing for their downfall.

They were both idiots, there was no doubt. Helblindi's vision was practically non-existent after having received, in a fight, a blow to the head that nearly killed him, while Byleist was marked by the scars of thousands of bee stings that an enemy used against him. Anyone would have worn a helmet or jumped into the water, but they, so desperate to receive daddy's favor, preferred to act like the berserkir they were not, becoming even more ridiculous than usual, if that was possible. Surely they would be in problems soon, and then he would remind them that after all, he was Laufeyjarsón and unwanted.

And so it was one day, although not with the expected results. As always, he was playing and singing, this time the taglharpa while singing about Thrudelmir and Bergelmir, a story that Váfthrudnir especially liked. They said that all the jötnar (and a good part of the æsir and vanir) could trace their family line up to these heroes of Jötunheim, and this lord probably pretended to brag about something like that. Well, he couldn't complain too much, this man was nice enough to offer him food, mead and gold for a tip; and he knew enough to tell him in a secluded corner after a few extra drinks and a few fish in return.

And as always, Váfthrudnir applauded him with joy and vehemence, throwing coins at his feet. He also invited him to sit next to him for a drink, and then Loki realized: where were the two idiots? Perhaps the etin read the thought in his head, for he asked the question (without the insults, obviously) to Fárbauti, who with a very swollen chest and a smile of pride and satisfaction answered:

"Together they went to Alfheim, my lord, to the court of the false King Halewijn. They are going to steal one of their famous filters to seduce some ladies."

"Which ladies they pretend to "seduce"?" Váfthrudnir asked, with disgusted sarcasm in the last word, which did not go unnoticed by his interlocutor:

"They only want to to show off! You know that I condemn such a horrible act, my lord. They want to use them to prove their worth before the beautiful Eisa and Eimirya."

"In that case, I wish them good luck."

"I do not," whispered Loki, receiving a mortal look from his father, ".... have a different wish from yours, sir."

And before he knew whether he was spared or not, Hrym, son of Váfthrudnir, ran in with a missive in the shape of a stick and a worried gesture. In explaining it, he said that an elf had given it to him specifically for his father. He was so upset that it didn't take Váfthrudnir long to reach his son, not only to calm his nerves, but also to read the branch richly decorated with imitations of silver leaves. His eyes went exorbitant and he tended the message to his host, who took it hesitantly in front of the amused look of the one who prepared the gurdy-hurdy as if nothing was happening.

"They have captured Helblindi and Byleist!"

"Oh, what a pity, I'll play Pål Sine Høner." Fárbauti grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and by his gaze he would have grabbed him by the collar.

"You'd better go get them, damn Askeladden."

"And why should I?"

"Because I suppose you don't want you and your mother to be left out in the open, at the mercy of lightning."

He shook him before letting him fall back to his seat, and with an angry, annoyed gesture, Loki grabbed his sword, stepped out of the corridor and wandered aimlessly around the island, trying to calm his bad mood, first, and then to think of a way to get rid of going looking for those idiots. Who would even think of looking for a flirting potion? They couldn't be so foolish as not to know how to take someone to the cot! Hell, even he'd had a few fucks. He'd say he'd gone to Alfheim, but they'd already been executed for the robbery. He could even provide a "proof": he would catch a fish, burn its thorns and then arrive with the ashes of "his poor brothers".

He was very talented in fishing, with angling, by hand or even transforming and attracting entire banks. Since he wasn't going to come back gatecrashing in order to ask for a tool that wasn't in order, he decided that he would go for the last options. So, he went to the center of Laufgroeney, where there was a perfectly round crystalline lagoon, surrounded by the first trees his mother treated after the great fire that ended with his inhuman conception. Unlike what was planned, he was not alone: a figure covered by a dark blue cape and a disheveled beaked hat that was too loose for him was sitting at his destination.

The stranger greeted him, revealing that his face was covered by a smiling green mask, and patted a piece of grass on his side to sit next to him. For it could not be more sinister yet. He sat with him anyways, and since he did not want to become something so easy to catch, he assumed that he would have to fish by hand. At least, the man already had a burning fire, surely to not to catch a cold because his clothes were wet.

"Greetings, my young friend."

"Greetings unknown creepy old man," he tried to ignore the guy and focus on the fish, but they got out of his hands.

"My name is Hropt, I'm a mere traveller from far away, and I'm a little hungry. Pass some sympathy."

"Hey, catch your own fishes."

"Well, you're not the best, anyways." Another fish fled, and Loki, angry, thought that that fellow probably had something to do with it.

"I have my head elsewhere; if I do this it's because I don't know how to go to Alfheim." It wasn't his most elaborate lie, perhaps because it was partly true.

"Let's do one thing: I ask you a question, and I tell you how to go to your destination if you answer correctly."

"Begin, Hropt."

"Well, what do you know about the goddess Freya?"

"She is the queen of the Æsir, a rich woman among the Vanir, daughter of Njörd, sister and lover of Frey, wife of Odin, she can see the future by weaving and getting into trances, she knows seid magic, she takes half the fallen in battle and the pious and fucked four dwarves to get the Brísingamen."

"Four dwarves?"

"This is what my good lord Váfthrudnir, the wisest of them all, told me. Their names are Álfrigg, Dvalin, Berling and Grer."

"Do you think you could steal the necklace?"

"No, I'd have to know how to go to Asgard. Steal it yourself, weirdo."

"You're an insolent child."

"And you're a sinister old man!"

"Well, you've told me what you know, I'll tell you what I know: Bifröst and Gjálabrú aren't the only ways to cross realms. This lagoon connects directly to the Yggdrasil, and if you hit the bottom at its deepest point you will go to the any realm you want. Go with the condition that someday you will come to Asgard and give me the Brísingamen; if you don't, I will personally take care anything of you is not seen again."

And this Hropt vanished under the nose of Loki, who now had no real excuse. He turned into a salmon and, as he had been told, he swam to the bottom and when he came back to the surface he was no longer in Laufgroeney, not even in Jötunheim.

There were no more leafy pines that darkened the little light, there were no large, rugged, almost bald mountains on the horizon, and there was not a single cloud in the sky. Instead he saw fruit trees in their fullness, the relief was only a small, soft, multicoloured mountain of flowers, and the sky was clear. Well, that explained why the sun was called "Disk of the Elves" and not some name of the daughters of Mundilfari. He came out of the lake and heard some flirtatious laughter behind him: first he saw one huldra, then another, and so three beautiful naked ladies inviting him to join them.

And they would have succeded, had it not been for the fact that they saw his sword hanging from his belt. It would be rusty, and its name "Lævateinn" would allude more to its dilapidated state than to any harm it might cause; but it was iron, which frightened these sexually hyperactive ladies. At least it would frighten these and other vættr and their trip to the court of Halewijn would be short, fast and without incidences.

By common sense, it would be on the mountain of the horizon, which he later found out was called Daudrfell. Although in the distance he could not distinguish it, at the top there were trees like scaffolds, one with two empty gallows already prepared. There was a kind of paradeof elves and vættr, where a very tall one with a frightful mask stood out. From two cages came the pleading voices of the two idiots he had gone been looking for; it was unbelievable that they should have fallen in front of someone as rare as the guy with the badly painted blue grey hair. Before anyone presented him, he appeared before the one who was clearly the leader (the most naff of them all), and with his arrival, and that of Lævateinn, more than half of his company ran away or vanished, a wonderful chaos that the elves tried to remedy by shouting, making him laugh.

"Quiet, quiet!" They all obeyed Halewijn's order instantly, "I see that we have a very attractive young man in front of us: wavy red hair, very well cared for and trimmed; thin, but tall; youthful features complemented by a haughty smile. Not to mention the exotic yellow eyes that betray him! Tell us, young nokki, your identity."

"My name is Loki Laufeyjarsón, and those two dumb-asses you have locked up are my brothers." Halewijn seemed thoughtful, even making a very theatrical "eme" sound, to match his screaming clothes.

"Look, Loki the Nokki, let's make a deal: I'll give you your brothers, and you'll use your singing powers in my amusements, okay?"

Loki sealed the deal first with a handshake and then with a hug that seemed sticky even to him. Halewijn himself opened the cages, but not without first demonstrating his power by positioning his exit towards the bodies that hung half decomposing, although this warlord claimed that this image "disgusted" him. Obviously, not in an empathic sense, but rather because a rotting fluid stained his purple coat with decorations as bright as the message he left at first.

Before returning to Jötunheim in the very chariot of the so-called "King of the Elves", and during the voyage, he only complained that two such ugly types had arrived earlier and assaulted his cellar. Helblindi and Byleist tried to please him by admiring the security display and how difficult it was to steal anything from him. His younger brother smiled when, taking advantage of a moment of distraction from his new lord, he showed them the rings he had taken from him during the handshake. Feeling superior to them, he went beside the elf during the journey, and made the mistake of leaving them alone behind him without paying attention.

They didn't attack him in the carriage, no. As soon as they returned home, Halewijn resumed the journey back to Daudrfell, where, he claimed, he would wait for Loki for their "adventures". Helblindi and Byleist changed their expression to a friendlier one, and from his cape, the first one extracted a horn carved and covered by a hard cloth. Once uncovered, a delicious fruity scent came out of it, and the three had the desire to drink it at that moment.

"You see, we too know how to steal."

"And without having to do argr our ass, Askeladden."

"Well, simply because of that insult..." the youngest took the horn and without thinking he drank the whole thing.

It was a big mistake. The paralysis went through his body as if it were a shock whose pain made him fall to the ground with a dull sound. His brothers knocked on the door, and for a second he thought they were looking for help. It was not so, and so it was shown when, after a slave had appeared, Helblindi required the presence of Fárbauti. Besides, Byleist checked his pulse taking advantage of his stillness, and when he knew he was still alive he cursed himself, complaining that they had failed. The father carelessly pulled him aside and repeated the process, from touching his neck to becoming angry at the failed plan.

"But, of course, he's a huldurfolk; these things don't work with him."

And after applying that logic, Fárbauti grabbed him by the hair and dragged him along regardless of his drowned cries. He tried to recover the mobility of the muscles uselessly, since they seemed to be made of rags and completely useless; unfortunately his mind was still conscious and tortured by paralysis, panic and the little stones that were stuck in his back and legs. He tried to scream again, but his screams could not get out of his mouth; he could hardly negotiate.

He guessed his intentions as soon as he saw the pond. He could open his eyes exorbitantly and even shake. It was of little use to him, for he was thrown into the water, and as soon as he was afloat, Fárbauti himself submerged him again.

"Come on, you bastard Laufey! Die once and for all!" he exclaimed angrily as soon as his son regained his mobility and began to fight.

Because he wasn't going to leave himself to be killed so easily no matter how much liquid he swallowed and filled his lungs. First he tried to splash out, to emerge ignoring the brute force. Then he decided that the best idea was to free himself from the hands that submerged him, scratching them with his normal hands and turned them into lupines, inflicting several wounds. Three drops of blood fell into the lake alone, and three pairs of hands began to drown him.

The fight continued for a short time, because against three opponents there was little he could do. Only his hands splashed, but there was no attempt to escape. In the end, the waters were still again and the forest in a silence broken by the footsteps of the perpetrators back home and the screeches of two crows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Svíkja: Betrayal  
> Eitr: Primordial poison, although it comes from some mythological snakes, like Jörmungandr or the snake of Loki's punishment.  
> Nerthus and Njörun: Nerthus is a Germanic goddess mentioned by Tacitus, covered and related to the fertility of the land. Nerthus and Njörd is the same name, which makes one think that they were a hermaphrodite divinity at some time. Njörun is a goddess mentioned in very obscure Scandinavian sources, and her name links her to Njörd (perhaps she was his wife-sister). So here Nerthus is a hermaphrodite, but Njörd and Njörun a man and a woman respectively.  
> Meili: Brother of Thor, surely son of Odin and Jörd; I found of him (finally) that he could have been the god of oblivion  
> Váfthrudnir: Etin who embodied knowledge, a wise and just giant that Odin faced in a duel of riddles.  
> Thrudelmir and Bergelmir: Son and grandson of Ymir respectively. The latter and his wife repopulate the giants  
> Eisa and Eimirya: Daughters of Logi (god and incarnation of fire) and the Glöd elf, considered very beautiful; many Nordic heroes descend from them.  
> Pål Sine Høner: A Norwegian song about a boy trying to save his chickens from a fox. It dates back to the 19th century, but I thought it was funny that Loki sang a children's song in that situation.  
> Gjálabrú: Bridge connecting Midgard with Helheim  
> Mundilfari: Jötun who embodies time, with Glaur (daughter of Surt and Sinmara) is the father of Sól, Máni, Sigyn and maybe Fulla.  
> Lævateinn: The sword of Loki, its name means "Stick destruction". Until Ragnarök Loki does not use it because it is guarded by Sinmara (it is managed by Sigyn's family).  
> Daudrfell: It means "mountain of death" since I can't find a translation for "scaffold".  
> Huldra: A spirit of the Nordic forest, very sexually active, to the point of killing their partners in this way. They have a cow's tail and are afraid of iron.  
> Halewijn: A character from a Dutch ballad with pre-Christian origins, he attracted women with his voice and then murdered them, until one beheaded him. It has clear pagan origins, probably representing a nokki   
> Vætr: Means "being", applies to any elf or divine being  
> Hrym: A jötun, he will lead his people in the Ragnarök. Not Váfthrudnir's son in Norse mythology  
> Argr: Substantive form of "ergi", used to name a man who allowed himself to be penetrated by another man, who was called "sincere friend" (Kær félagi); argr o ergi is considered the greatest insult.  
> Askeladden: Askeladden is a typical Norwegian fairy tale character as well as a symbol of Norwegian nationalistic Romanticism. This character has long been identified with Loki. Askeladden literally means "boy of the ashes", a kenning for "idiot" (possible reason why in later translations the character is called "Boots", "Havor" or "Espen"), or an indication of the low familiar category of this character since it is the third son and not exactly the best. In his stories it is rare that he does not end up marrying a princess, generally saving her from a troll or even having a flyting (somewhat downplayed, of course) or a lie contest with her.


	3. Hefndir

The last thing he remembered was the sudden darkness that enveloped him after he could not breathe underwater. He remembered the previous anguish, his efforts that actually only condemned him even more and the fear of death. As it seemed, his fear had become a reality, for now he was among a multitude of very diverse beings who walked sadly over a bridge of frozen gold covered by a blue mist. On the other side three thrones could be seen: the two smallest flanked the largest, one made of darkness and the other of bones and corpses; the largest was made of one half carved in precious metals and jewels, the other of rotten wood and bloody skin. All three were empty, but they gave a clue as to where he was.

The other clue was seeing a large gygi dressed with a hood covering her face, clearly Modgud, guardian of the Gjálabrú on the Gjöll river. Behind the thrones there was a mountain that Loki recognized as the Helgafell, and surely under the bridge would be either Náströnd or even Hvelgemir judging by the cries of the tortured. If he did not hurry, he would join them, for he had not fulfilled his pacts with the old man or with Halewijn; he had also on more than one occasion saved his ass with some little lie, and above all, the time he did it so that a husband would not kill him because he had slept with his wife.

And desperately, nothing better occurred to him than to stay still, slowing down the walk of his row, which no matter how much they piled up on his back and pushed him, had run into a whole rock. This agglutination grew in size, so much so that it spread to the other walkers and blocked the path. At the sight of the disorder Modgud jumped to the edge of Gjálabrú, and as soon as she found the culprit she threw him against the three seats, which vibrated strongly. From the elder came a sweet and soft voice, like a woman's, something strange given that it was the realms themselves who were speaking:

"I welcome you, Lódur Laufeyjarsón, better known as Loki the Nokki."

"This is impossible! I shouldn't be here!" He stabbed Lævateinn in the main throne, and when he extracted it he saw that now it was of a hard and brilliant material that seemed to be made of waves (Damascene?), and with runes engraved on it.

"To your misfortune," continued his strange interlocutor, taking him out of his metallurgical analysis, "now you are in Hel, where you will be judged accordingly and placed in respect of your acts."

"But I shouldn't be here! After all," his mind, in that situation of panic, fortunately thought something very interesting, "I died drowned: I should be in Rán's net."

"Is that how you consider it? So be it."

Modgud came back to him, and although her face could not be seen, Loki correctly guessed that she would be smiling with pleasure when she caught him almost crushing him with her fingers. She would continue with that expression when she threw him away from that world, straight to the seas of Midgard or back to Jötunheim. Darkness arose again as he fell, but before that, Loki was able to think of the next plan.  
The first thing he noticed were the strings burning his skin. He opened his eyes, sure to see the knots and the magic net. Instead, he squealed in terror when he saw his companions: all with their mouths open, gasping for air even if they were dead; their skins were pale, wet and swollen. Their eyes were totally white, and some even had them out of their bowls or half eaten by fish, like their bodies. Would he look like this now, he wondered as the owner of that torture entered.

Her appearance was even more horrifying. Rán was shown in a titanic size, further accentuating her musculature. Her skin was gray and in some areas, such as the protrusions on her back, she was covered with scales. She had no more eyes than two bulging circles as dark as the depths, and she had no nose either, but two slits more similar to the gills of her neck. Both her feet and her hands were webbed, but the latter were long and claw-shaped. The worst were the teeth, thin, long and sharp like those of a barracuda. He would have to swallow his fear if he wanted to get out of there.

"Greetings, Frau Rán."

"Who's talking to me?" she replied in a deep voice for a woman, but nevertheless pretty.

"My name is Loki, I'm the one Modgud sent."

"I can see you now." One of her eyes stuck directly into him, frightening him more.

"You see, I wanted to tell you that there was some confusion; Modgud sent me to the wrong place."

"And what is that place?"

"Or Valhalla or Folkvang, for I died fighting."

"To go there a valkyrie must take you."

"But they only take the midgardians, at most an etin! And I'm a sjórisar because I'm a Nokki!"

"Technically, you are a huldurfolk; however, so are my daughters," Rán was thoughtful, "do you want to go to the best instances of death? Then so be it!"

She took him out of the net, and also a woman who was attacking the hand that had liberated her. The woman wore warrior garb, had black wings and almost all of her was covered in blood. How had the valkyrie drowned? Would they be missing her in Asgard?

Without thinking, the wife of Ægir released them once the freed woman swore to bring Loki before her kings. Again, the damned darkness came upon him, and he prepared his defense on the basis of what Váfthrudnir had told him of both kings at the time.

He woke up in a different realm. In a valley with very short grass surrounded by fields of cultivation two corridors rose before him: the one that had a wolf's head on the door would be Valhalla, the one of the wild boar's head would be Folkvang. Two figures, moreover, hovered before him: an old one-eyed man, but tall and strong and with a certain attractiveness beyond his real clothes; next to him a younger woman, with very marked muscles, blond hair, hard expression and wearing many jewels, including Brísingamen. They were the kings Odin and Freya.

The valkyrie bowed before them, though she knew she would receive some reprimand or punishment. Freya was the one who seemed most angry with her, and carrying a spear and a sword in her belt, she gave more fear than desire. Odin, on the other hand, seemed more focused on what his crows were whispering to him, most likely arguing over the nokki who had reached his third life after death. With a serious gesture, it was Asgard's sovereign who offered him the hand to rise with a quasi-fraternal smile.

"And you'd better make amends, Mist!" They heard the van scream after pushing the referee toward her death section.

"You have to excuse my wife, my friend; a warrior dísir like that enclosed in Rán's net is quite a humiliation for her." Odin's voice was deep and calm, like the voice of a grandfather with whom to listen to stories in the heat of the fire; also suspiciously identical to that of the old sinister one.

"Don't worry. My mother told me about you."

"So Hugin and Munin were right, you're Laufey's son. Your poor mother mourns your death, alone among the weeds, observing your pale body and not being able to believe your destiny, denying it and at the same time understanding that she has lost the only thing that brought her happiness."

"My death was not something I sought!"

"Your other lafterlife either: you denied Hel, Rán and now Valhalla and Folkvang, am I wrong?" His only eye had disturbing shades of blue and gray that analyzed him, "You don't want to be dead at all. And, frankly, I understand."

"Besides, if I'm dead, I'm of little use to you."

Odin grinned in response. Then he took the bizarrely arrived away from Idavöllr to a large tower with no definite beginning or end, the floors of which were constantly turning in different directions, with four doors on each floor. Probably it was another one of those places where the realmos overlapped and that would take him directly to his own. He whom his mother called "Allfather" gave him a golden apple "for the future" and went into a trance as he whispered some words that Loki did not understand at all. The fog, the same color as his eyes, rose around him, and finally it surrounded the jötun and placated him. And, again, darkness.

He woke up in his mother's arms, coughing and spitting water. Although Laufey thought she was hallucinating at first, she did not care at all, because she held him even tighter to cover him with kisses. Little did she care about his strange appearance: pale, swollen, with algae embedded in his skin and eyes even brighter than before; her child, her little son, had returned. And not only that, he had returned with a plan that would finally free them from the scum of Fárbauti, Helblindi and Byleist. They would pay for their crimes.

The perfect occasion did not take long to appear. Not only had Fárbauti freed himself from that annoyance, but in other respects he also believed himself to have been blessed by the Norns: he had obtained some splendid marriage contracts: for Helblindi none other than Skadi Thjazisdóttir, queen of the Ironwood and heiress of Thrymheim; and for Byleist a vanr called Sif, who, though bastard, was the goddess of the harvest and family ties. Both were blondes, beautiful and rich; Skadi was a great hunter, very strong and serious; Sif would provide constant food and home, very coquettish. And if there was one thing they agreed with those idiots, it was that they didn't want to marry them!

The problem for Sif was that she didn't have a father to claim the unfairness of the situation, for Skadi it was that she longed to impress her daddy at all costs. It was a difficult situation that Loki had come across by pretending to be one of her many companions, who didn't even know how many they had. Thus, she remained hidden in the appearance of a blind elf, not to reveal her eyes. Only her mother knew of this, but no one would ask her why she was delightfully feigning her grief over the loss of her baby.

The first to get what he deserved would be Helblindi. Despite being blind, he pretended to be as worthy or more superior than his fiancée, so he went in search of preys without paying attention to the snake that crawled behind him, waiting for him to stumble one day in his new home. Curiously, this dumb-ass had learned to capture his prey despite not seeing. As soon as Loki knew that he was guided by his ear he set the next part of the plan in motion:

A moonless night was the most suitable. The "elf" had told the future victim about a very unusual bird, possibly a witch in disguise. Skadi would never capture such a thing for fear that she was her subject, but she, like everyone else, would surely be impressed by his skill. So he saw him prowling around with his bow, and finally the serpent was able to sing his hypnotic song.

Helblindi threw the bow as soon as the notes penetrated his ears. Running to the scene of his crime he thought little of, only focused on finding out all about that sweet song. He leaned over to the shore, where a body of rope tied to his neck and dragged him to the depths. Loki, dissatisfied with the water that would take his life, rolled himself to his body, preventing him from moving or taking air from the surface, an impossible task. Thus, the last thing he saw before leaving to Hel were two bright yellow eyes.

Fárbauti did not have time to cry to this son. It was agreed that Skadi would also marry Byleist, although now Thjazi and his daughter were not so happy with the idea of a harem; so it was also agreed that he would never go to any of the kingdoms of his future new wife. As Byleist did not agree with this last fact either, he also followed the story of the "innocent elf" who claimed to have seen Hnóss, daughter of Freya, prowling around the island to rescue her friend Sif; and whose capture and marriage was even more delicious than that of the two aforementioned ladies.

And so, on that second night without light, Loki striked again. Now he was transformed into a beautiful woman with brown hair, with the beauty of Freya and the eyes of Odin. It didn't take long for Byleist to find the young woman singing a melancholy melody on the violin, which he thought was about the friend he was trying to find. She was observed by the totally hallucinated fiancé, to whom she sent a smile and a gesture so that he approached. With the fame of being the daughter of the goddess of love and feminine sexuality, the idea of her forgetting a companion for a casual affair made sense to the determined jötun, who ran towards her without thinking.

And, as planned, he fell into the lake, where whom he had believed to be Hnóss, sank him by squeezing his head. As he was fighting, the supposed maid also threw herself and caught him as well as her brother. He, too, witnessed the nokki's eyes in his last moment.

Loki emerged from the lake in the masculine form that he had before his death and that others had praised so much. He went to the house where his mother had yet to live, perhaps already knowing what was going on in the henhouse: he leaned out of the henhouse door, where he found Sif half-naked with Skadi on her, fingering her, and the vanr barely tried to get rid of her lover and cover herself. He smiled mischievously and securely as he entered and removed his shirt.

"Ladies, I'm sorry to interrupt, but do you mind if I join you?"

Fárbauti was more angry than ever: in just two days he had lost his two children and the two incredible candidates left happier than ever. He felt his old wife asking for calm, but if he had ignored her more than once, he would do it another time. So he went to look for Laufey, still in her mourning role, and threw her against the bed, crunching her legs.

"I know you're behind this," he pressed his hands around her neck. "I'll be very clear, Laufey: either you confess and I'll give you a quick death, or you shut up and I'll kill you as slowly and painfully as your son!"

However, it was him who suffered the consequences: an extremely sharp blade amputated his arm, which fell on his wife. Loki was not at all pleased because he took advantage of the father's confusion and screams of pain to amputate the other arm. He would have strung it right there, stabbed it a thousand times and bathed in its blood... but he wouldn't let it die that way.

"It's funny," he said as he cut off his legs to the attentive look of his mother's approval, "if you were a troll, one of those huldurfolk whom you hate so much, you would be regenerating and healing."

He dragged Fárbauti to the pond where, not long ago, he had been the victim, and his brothers his. Some scavenging animals, such as magpies, crows and ravens, landed on the branches in the hope that the "great" would die from the bleeding indicated by the stream of blood. Unfortunately for them, Loki threw him, knowing that in that state little struggle would give, and with a dreadful gesture of happiness drowned him. Well, the birds could always feast when father and sons surfaced, he thought.

When the waters were dyed red he came back with Laufey, who had already stored all the valuables in a cloth bag. One of the slaves was on the ground with a bad head wound that matched one of the golden horns, surely the one stained with red liquid. The dead man would have pretended to be faithful to Fárbauti and would have threatened Laufey instead of leaving as the others had done along with various other goods. The corridor felt thus, plundered and silent, very strange.

In that place so quiet, mother and son said goodbye with a silent embrace, because they had nothing more to say to each other. In tears she gently caressed his face before leaving there, in the direction of Soria Moria, where she would stop at last before returning to Asgard. Loki fell to his knees on the ground with nothing in particular in his thoughts; he had already avenged them, and now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hefndir: It means "revenge."  
> Gjöll: river of eitr or frozen river of Niflheim and/or Helheim under the Gjálabrú, transports the souls of all those burned in their boats.  
> Helgafell: Mountain in Helheim where those who have been good go  
> Náströnd: "Bay of the dead", there go those who were evil, who are tortured by Garm. Nárfi and Nári seem to be connected to this land too  
> Hvelgemir: Another place for the wicked in Helheim, where Nídhogg lives  
> Mist: One of many valkirias at the service of Odin  
> Folkvang: Where half of the dead in battle go to the service of Freya; they are the defense forces in contrast to the attack forces of Valhalla.  
> Ironwood and Thrymheim: Both property of Skadi, is queen of the first but does not reside in it, but a group of troll women (including Angrböda); Thrymheim is a corridor in the mountains of Jötunheim in which she resides  
> Hnoss: Daughter of Freya (though believed to be an invention), goddess of jewels


	4. Húsl

Maybe it was that existential void that led him to look for Halewijn. Perhaps it was the message on another stick that reminded him that he knew where he lived and who his mother was. Or maybe it was that when he returned to Daudrfell he was greeted with honors: gold in abundance, almost daily parties, good liquor and many people to enjoy. In particular he remembered a stranger who covered himself with the skull and antlers of a deer, and who had the biggest phallus he had ever seen and felt. His new boss hadn't seemed very happy about it, although he hadn't reached very high levels of anger either.

The first time had been in his "raids". On the advice of the elf, Loki had changed his appearance to that of a white mare so as not to arouse suspicion among the villagers of a Midgard village. At first, and knowing about the nature of the elves, he imagined that they would go out to an orgy and a party; then Halewijn would cause nightmares for a few people. Nothing more, a little mischief that they would then have to run for. And nothing could be further from the truth, because once her chants succeeded in attracting a maiden of good vision, Halewijn had led her to the river that separated her realm from Jötunheim and had drowned her mercilessly.

She seemed sympathetic and pleasant, she had not offered a fight and in general she seemed enchanted by her murderer, so it was not understood why he had done that. Therefore, and taking advantage of her equine form, she had tried to flee without success: Vár would know about the pact and would have already considered it correct, because she felt a discharge similar to that of the liquor that allowed her murder and also paralyzed her. Halewijn soon found her, and caressed her neck with a sweetness that did not fit her words at all:

"I don't think I have told you that Daudrfell requires a female sacrifice. It's such a trivial fact that I forget it, my dear. You will attract the chosen one and I will execute her. Only truly beautiful women will be able to choose her death, if it bothered you that I immersed her in water."

"I don't want to know anything more about this!"

"Well then, I'm afraid you'll be the next, sweetheart. You can't run away from me, after all. Don't get angry, my nokki!"

Another daughter of Embla floated after a week. The villagers waited day after day for a new one to appear, some praying to Freya, Sif, or any female deity in general, that she might not be part of their family and that they might watch over them. Nobody dared to ask the new "couple" installed: a very tall guy with strangely dyed hair and a very pretty woman who stole men's glances. This young woman had earned her respect for her ability to play the lyre at banquets, although she quickly lost it when a grey and black snake slithered down the replica of the Yggdrasil they had in the temple, and very loudly shouted:

"The newly arrived are the ones who murder your daughters: look at his shiny skin and her yellow eyes. Here they are!"

She had to be a mare again and she had to carry her lord on her back. Lucky for her that between Sigyn, Sigel, Fulla, Freya and Odin had blessed the horses with being able to walk through the liminal space that united the realms and that imbued the Cosmic Tree. She received, of course, a projectile that forced her to recover his humanoid form once on safe ground in order to heal his side. As Halewijn had received no damage, but appreciated his possessions, he allowed him to return to his bacchanal routine in Alphheim, only for one night. The next day they would look for a place where they would not know them.

The chosen place was Vanaheim. His boss showed a special hatred for this world and its people, and for Frey in particular. He had not liked that the gods had given him an entire kingdom and an entire people just because his teeth had grown. For that reason he had crowned himself king of the elves; to maintain his power he gave those sacrifices to that evil slope: "A woman, my friend, is full of great magic. They are the ones who give life, and each of them, now within Daudrfell, gives me the power of many new lives."

Finally, Loki reminded himself, if anyone was going to die, may that be the Vana's daughter who came to his voice with a silly smile, unaware of the cruel destiny that the Norns had assigned to her. With a lost look she went straight to the river that no longer contained only gold in its bed, also her corpse, the terrible act of the nokki. She was deeply mourned by her tribe, and it was even said that the god Frey personally prepared her funeral.

The assassins were not there for long either. They only had time to sacrifice yet another victim, a teenage girl who was almost spared by carrying a bowl of liquor with her; for that reason Halewijn had hanged her and had thus made their evil presence very clear. Once again, in order to camouflage himself, Loki used to appear in a bracelet disguise that did not arouse suspicion among those people who so much appreciated precious and exotic metals and jewelry. His boss walked around with the bracelet engraved with the figure of a swordsman, and no one suspected at all.

Until one day, a fjord mare trotted to the center of the thing. All the vanir, from Lytir to Byggvir, had listened to the concerns of their queen, afflicted by this wave of murders. Of course, the elf had also gone despite his contempt for these people. He had been acting casual, even bragging about the jewel, until such an unusual guest stood up in front of everyone and neighed very loudly:

"The newly arrived are the ones who murder your daughters: look at his turned heart and the threatening position of his adornment. Here they are!"

Again they had to flee, although this time resorting to their singing powers. Going back to being humanoid, he sang a love song that made the angry crowd stop. All were gawking and smiling, lowering their weapons and allowing the short flight to the home to the elves. Halewijn cursed whoever was following and betraying them, paranoid about his own subjects, and almost had them all hanged.

Only his mood calmed down when he remembered a region so inhospitable that not even his own queen wanted to live there: the easternmost point of Midgard, almost at Jötunheim, populated only by trolls and the most monstrous among the hrimthur: the Ironwood. The regent was a hrimthur called Hrímnir who worked the pitch so much that, scornfully, he had earned the nickname "Sooty". His wife, Hyrja, had given him a son and many daughters. Six? Seven? Not to mention the other beautiful trolls who lived there! They could use them without problem for their dark purposes, and now that, they considered, there would be no traitors, they would operate without problems until there were no women left to offer.

And so, they mobilized one more time, which would be the last. The Ironwood was reputed to be an inhospitable and cold area, so much so that the trees had no leaves (Laufey would have put her hands in her head), but where no snow or rain fell. A rough land... they would have to improvise with trees and ropes. The advantage would be that there were no large crowds of people here and they could easily hide, pissing off whoever was giving them away. Despite this, Loki didn't like this place at all, so he hoped to quickly finish off these girls and claim his freedom, fed up with such sinister messes that not even the biggest parties paid off anymore.

They waited once more for the night. In its dark bosom they took refuge, and the song of the serpent camouflaged itself in it and in its stillness, reaching all the corners between those large logs so close together that they barely let the bright moonlight see. In such a mysterious place the notes fitted and traveled to Hrímnir's home, where his daughters were astonished; however, only one, Óvitrliga, gathered enough courage to put on her best clothes, jumped out the window and ventured at full speed in search of that man who was making her feel an unspeakable passion.

So, she found an elf masked with his hair and beard painted blue. He was, unlike the rest of his own, tall and of youthful constitution; perhaps that is why he was dressed in such elegant robes, including a damascene sword with magical runes in his belt. At his side, a bright yellow snake twisted his body over a lyre and sang. When he snapped her fingers it stopped, letting Halewijn see her great power.

"Well, well, look at what a pretty young girl."

"Thank you, my lord Halewijn."

"And you've even dressed for the occasion! Oh, but what's that? A gray hair! And on top of that, you're a brunette... You won't even choose your death."

Halewijn then unbuttoned his belt and with a quick movement wrapped around the neck of the paralyzed young woman. As she tried to free herself from oppression, he hung the other end on a branch. Poor Óvitrliga continued to move for several minutes driven by her survival instinct, but wasting precious oxygen. Finally, she was still and stiff hanging, a gloomy image that the assassin repelled. With the help of his servant they took her down, and, once again taking advantage of the lack of light, they took her to the first house they found in that cursed place.

They repeated the same process, letting Loki's voice attract another lady. And he did not fail, in fact, she was the sister of the previous one. Festra was her name, and like the other, her hair was dark and her eyes blue, and without grey hair on this occasion. With her, she carried coins she had stealthily stolen from her parents' chest, anxious to conquer the elegant man who did not seem to provoke the nightmares her companions had. As soon as she saw him, she threw her loot and threw herself at his feet, madly in love.

"My Lord Halewijn, you are as beautiful as the song said."

"Thanks, dear," A gesture silenced the snake, and the spell disappeared. Now Festra feared for her life, "why this change towards me?"

"I... I... Keep the money, but don't kill me. My mother has cried strongly for my sister, please don't make her go through the same suffering."

"But who do you think you are? You're not even that pretty, you have a stain on your shoes!"

He tied her neck again, more violently if possible, and while calling her "worthy heiress of her father", he climbed up and shook the improvised gallows until he broke her neck. Fortunately for Festra, her death was quicker and painless. Maybe that's why the killer went alone to leave her body at home, still admiring the great beauty of the corpse and even regretting how the events had unfolded.

Unfortunately for the singer, this did not mean any change in the plan. They would go for the other three sisters, they would go for the possible friends, they would go for the grieving mother. Even if one day she dared to show up, they would kill Queen Skadi and they would kill the damn informant. Daudrfell would receive so much power that Halewijn could attack even Frey himself head-on. Too bad of his imaginations, the Norns had a very, very different plan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Húsl: Sacrifice  
> Vár: Goddess defender of the covenants, servant of Frigg or Freya depending on the source.  
> Embla: Means "elm", was the first woman according to Nordic mythology and was made of precisely this wood  
> Sigel: Anglo-Saxon name for Sól  
> Fulla: Goddess/incarnation of abundance, cleanliness, secrets, sunset and golden sun, possibly sister of Sól, Máni and Sigyn. She is also servant, blood sister and possibly lover of Frigg, here equated to Freya.  
> Vana: Goddess vanr and wife of Sveigdir (grandson of Frey and Gerda), mother with this one of Vanlandi. The vanir were directed by a woman, by etymology I chose her. For Tolkien Vana is the goddess of flowers.  
> Lytir: God vanr of prophecy, although present in many places in Sweden, the only history preserved of him is that a king asked questions to his statue  
> Byggvir: God vanr/elpho of hay and barley, husband of Beyla (goddess of manure). Only appears in the Lokasenna as a servant of Frey, although for the Anglo-Saxons was a very important figure (receiving for them the name of Beowa and even Beowulf, having who is considered the hero eponymous.  
> Hrímnir and Hyrja: Two jötnar parents among others of: Heid (goddess vanr of evil and greed, here equated to Angrböda), Hróssthófr (means "horse thief", a very serious crime for this society, a sorcerer who helped Odín find Rinda, mother of Váli), Hljód (wife of Völsung, mother of Sigmundo and Signy, grandmother of Sigfrido), Feima and Kleima (killed by Grim Hairy Cheek, mean "shy (in a negative sense)" and "stain (semen, in general)"). They die decapitated by Grim Hairy Cheek when they went to avenge their young daughters. The name Hrímnir evokes a hrimthur, but it also means Tiznado; in Nordic society working with fish was considered low category. "Hyrja" means blow  
> Óvitrliga and Festra: To match the content of the ballads I had to add two extra sisters. They mean "foolishly" and "rope".  
> Norns: Urd (or Wyrd), Verdandi and Skuld (this was also a valkyrie) were in charge of weaving the destiny of all beings in Nordic mythology. Although they lived in the Urd Well (which can be found in the roots of the Yggdrasil or in Asgard), they were jötnar, daughters of Mögthrasir. There were also lesser Norns, built by dwarves and accompanying humans throughout their lives, some of which were benevolent or evil


	5. Högg

Hyrja was crying for her two murdered daughters, but she did it for a short time. Every day she went to help her husband with his work, and every day she forced her sons to do the same. Not exactly in a kind way, as the cardinals betrayed on the face of their daughter Angrböda, who, together with the pitch, had given her the nickname of Hyrrokkin, "Smokey ". Her brother Hrossthófr had a bit more luck, using his magic to steal horses that he then sold to "very different buyers, with very different objectives and who want their hidden identity"; also Feima and Kleima with the excuse of being little girls got rid of each other and let them play all day (even if at their age she was already immersed in black substance up to her knees).However, the luckiest one, and the one Agrböda hated the most, was Hljód. She, like her brother, had been born with magic, and Freya (also the object of her hatred) had therefore chosen her as her servant, as a valkyrie and as a vanr; not happy with it she had married her to a good man who had already given her two beautiful children, even though they both came from Odin in one way or another.

Perhaps those she loved the most in her family were Festra and Óvitrliga. They weren't witches either, and they also had to put up with that disgusting job and their horrible mother. Now, however, she was contemplating their pale corpses and their last grimaces of terror being covered by the dark earth. Let Jörd take them into his bosom and let Helheim take them to Helgafell. All those who still lived in that cursed location wept at the loss, but for a short time: Hrossthófr was transformed again to attract some new equine, Feima and Kleima played, and she and her mother went to work with the different flammable black substances. In the meantime his father went to attend the doubts of other inhabitants, perhaps Eggthér; why he did not claim for himself and for his family the power of the Ironwood was something that Angrböda did not understand at all, after all, he was the son of Skadi and Odin and surely many would have gicen him their support.

Her family, then, consisted of a thieving witch, two annoying kids, two dead, an imbecile and a horrible woman. She was not going to allow the murderer to continue doing his own and go unpunished. So, careful not to cause an accident like the one that burned part of her face and earned her a black eye, she left her job. She ran as far as she could to her house, ignoring Hyrja's cries. Indeed, it was Eggthér who had problems, perhaps some lost sheep or food for the wolves. Angrböda felt ashamed to be covered with this sticky black mass in front of such a cheerful and handsome man, who gave her a smile that did not go unnoticed by Hrímnir. He frowned and dismissed the shepherd, immediately addressing his daughter, who was trying to clean the substance with cold water.

"Daughter, why aren't you working?"

"I am going to kill Halewijn and avenge my sisters."

"No, you won't."

"I'm an adult woman, and I will."

"You won't, Hyrrokkin."

Luckily for Hrímnir and unfortunately for Angrböda, Hyrja appeared, slapping and screaming. He didn't expect to find other screams in response, and finally a wolf was fighting a shark, trying to bite each other. Hrossthófr returned them to their normal form, and between him and his father they held them to prevent the beating from continuing.

"What is going on here?" asked the brother as authoritatively as possible.

"She left when we were preparing more matter! What would have happened if you had approached a fire, like that time?"

"Trust me, after burning half my face, I'm more careful! I came to tell my father that I am going to face Halewijn, the murderer of my sisters."

"Whatever he has told you I will not let you do it, Hyrrokkin!" And it was done as Hyrja commanded.

The first step was to lock her in the house. Hrímnir would attend the private individuals on their property and Hyrja returned to work. Her brother stayed to watch over her, also in charge of the little ones who only made noise with their annoying games. Everything could be different if she had been like Hljód, chosen by Freya and married to Völsung, queen of Hunaland. Damn were the Norns!

Her boredom and anger dominated her. In a single day she devoured more pears than ever and almost drank the honey reserves of a whole year. She was lying in bed, spinning, kicking the toys that Feima and Kleima left behind. The horrible symphony of the laughing girls mixed with the neighing of some new horse, to which latter was added the rattling of rabbit meat in the pot and finally the sound of the family members chewing loudly. There were no conversations at the time, fortunately. Everyone was infected by the tension between mother and daughter and feared that opening their mouth would mean a new quarrel.

Even with their feelings on the surface, they went to sleep. Again, the song that had preceded the deaths was heard in the house again. This time it was Angrböda who felt something she hardly knew: she felt her heart racing and her stomach stirring in the same pleasant way as when she saw Eggthér; but unlike the pleasant feeling she felt when she heard the shepherd's jokes, this was an artificial feeling she fought against until she almost threw up. Wasn't that nokki trying to make fun of her? Hadn't she had enough of killing her sisters? It was over, she was going to face that damned man even if it cost her life!

She quickly rose to her feet and went to find her best skirt and a beautiful necklace in her chest. She found only a bright red dress, a brooch down to the chest and a wolf skin cape. She had forgotten that she was not a queen. She didn't dare to look for any jewelry in her parents' chest, for she had no keys and didn't want to make any noise that would lift them up and ruin her plans. She didn't put on her boots yet so as not to make any noise, although she had to suppress a scream when she saw Hrossthófr at the door with a sturdy draught horse. She would even have to be grateful, because she could ignore the song that called her to love Halewijn.

"What are you doing? I almost died of fright!"

"I know what you're going to do, and I thought a horse would be useful to you."

"Thank you, brother." She took the animal's reins and rode on its back.

"Just one last thing, Hyrrokkin: don't sleep with him, or even Eggthér wouldn't pay for you."

With a serious gesture, Hrossthófr whipped the horse, which left without too much haste through the trees. The nokki was making more and more of a mark on Angrböda, who had to reminded herself with more and more intensity her goal and that the gentleman he presented so well was no more than the one who had hanged Óvitrliga and Festra. Had she been able to, she would have ripped her heart from her chest and burned it so as not to feel anything at all, especially when she was beginning to feel an increasingly irrational passion for the stranger.

"The newly arrived are the ones who murdered your sisters: listen to the lies of the serpent and the elf's rope in the necks. Here they are!" Sang a starlingg, breaking the spell.

"Who are you? Come down and show yourself!"

The bird turned into another woman, with long, loose black hair and huge, gray eyes. She soon recognized her as one of Sigel's sisters, no doubt Frau Sigyn. She knew many things about her, including her ability to name highly revered and powerful witches known as "gullveigs". The opportunity she was waiting for had finally arrived.

"Are you the black sun of magic and esotericism, of perfidy in war and victory, and of the eternal conflict between jötnar and gods?"

"That's right. I came to give you a gift, Angrböda: I'm going to make you defeat Halewijn. Come closer."

With all possible doubts and all possible desire, she dismounted from her saddle and approached Frau Sigyn, whose hands tattooed with runes and various symbols rested on her cheeks. A warm and pleasant sensation ran through her face, and when she was reflected in the image that her companion generated, she lookes as she had done before the accident: beautiful, with light and clean hair, lips as red as blood, big brown eyes and no trace of scars or burns. She had to touch the area repeatedly, feeling her skin soft without imperfections. She also checked other parts of her body: all of them healthy and perfect. She concentrated on her regained appearance and was able to ignore the chant a little more.

"I know it's affecting you, and I have the solution: I'll tell you what spells you have to sing to recover from the madness," she approached her ear and whispered the words that were recorded in the memory of the avenger with a tickle.

"And what do you want in exchange for these favors? Come on, don't look at me like that! I see you're not wearing the kransen."

"I want your court or your home to welcome me as your most sincere friend; and I want my companion to be treated the same."

"What if you make me a gullveig? Better yet, I want to be "the gullveig", Gullveig by propper name."

"I will only do it if you bring me Halewijn's head."

"So be it," and happier than she ever got on her horse, "Giddap!"

Singing the spells she had received, she continued on her way. Her mind was clear when she finally spotted a very tacky elf and a serpent singing beside him. She knew that she had to pretend to be an idiot and gawky, and basically jumped off the horse at the feet of the one she recognized as Halewijn. He took her by the chin and examined her in wonder. He smiled at her with false sweetness and had the nerve to squeal:

"My dear, you are so beautiful... Brown Eyes, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen; and also, like six I have killed, the seventh to perish. But only you, Brown Eyes, will be able to choose how you want to die."

When she had thrown herself professing words of fiery love she had noticed the sword that he carried and that would allow his plan. Likewise, she continued her performance and caressed the assassin's face, "If I must choose, my lord, I choose the sword."

"So you want Lævateinn to cut off your head..."

"But... I am still a virgin, and everyone knows that the blood of virgins is never cleansed. Please, my lord, I wouldn't want to stain such a beautiful shirt, would you please be so kind as to take it off?"

Halewijn turned around and lifted his shirt. When his face was covered, Angrböda took the sword from his belt and cut off his arms and head. Surprisingly, the elf was still screaming in horror, even when the woman grabbed him by the hair. She returned to her vehicle as soon as she saw that the snake had disappeared. She tossed Lævateinn away from her, wanting nothing to do with the one who killed her sisters more than necessary.

Before returning home she approached one of the wells that supplied underground water to the Ironwood. She put the elf's head in the bucket while he was still begging for her mercy; with a single blow she plunged it into the water so that he would suffer his final destination, and with joy she shouted as she picked up the inert limb:

"You killed six girls, and you will be the seventh to go to Hel!"

She had another interruption in her return: in this case it was a blind old woman carrying a horn with drink. Very kindly she offered it to her, and after verifying that it was not poison after she had given a few drops to her saddle, she drank it with thirsty avidity. She offered the woman who had presented herself as Tökk to return with her, although she claimed to be looking for her poor son.

"His name is Halewijn, haven't you heard from him?"

"Here's your damned son!" Bellowd her,, showing his head cut off and drowned. Tökk collapsed too dramatically and she went on her way.

Thanks, however, to the horn he had given her, she was able to announce her return. No one of her family welcomed her immediately, but Frau Sigyn with the appearance and smiles of someone who had been too well greeted. With her went a very tall and very strong blond guy, with an uncovered chest full of scars and tattoos and with blood still on his boots. Mundilfari's daughter fell once when she went to meet her and then hugged her very tightly. Angrböda had to hold her so that she would not fall again, which made the berserker or úlfhedinn jealous, who approached with an unhappy face to pick up his girl.

"Look, Schionatalunder, this is my most sincere friend Angrböda, "the warrior grunted in reply, and Frau Sigyn addressed the woman again, "Your brother is very worried about one question: did you finally sleep with Halewijn?"

"Who the fuck cares?"

"Don't talk to my lady like that!" Schionatalunder took a more violent position, and was more than willing to stick the horn she had received from Tökk into her skull.

"Well, I won't let you eat in my home, you'll only be in one, and I don't know what it would be like for old Mundilfari to see his daughter's lover in Soria Moria."

"That's enough! I love you both... Do you have what I asked for?"

Angrböda only handed the head as soon as she had shown it to her amazed and frightened family. Feima and Kleima shouted frightened, Hyrja collapsed, Hrímnir threw up and only Hrossthófr applauded her (only once he had verified that she had not had sex with that son of a bitch). Nor that she had expected to be received with a banquet and that everyone would eat and laugh around the head. Fortunately, her new "friend" did nothing of the sort, even looking with even more hatred than she ever did at what was left of the false elf king.

"Not only dp I live with Schionatalunder; another young woman, also from Midgard, kept my company in my Soria Moria. Halewijn and his slave nokki dared to snatch from me that chosen lady of the gods; this is the proper punishment."

"I don't care for the gods. Now it is your turn to fulfill your promise."

"There are other ways to get magic: Odin hung himself from the Yggdrasil for nine days and gave the gald to humans; Freya with the smoke of sacrifices discovered the seid...."

"Are you disrespecting me by denying me a deal? Give me the power for which I will be called Gullveig!"

Before an intense heat comparable only to chains of live fire oppressed her chest what she saw was the thoughtful black sun, knowing this of something Angrböda, since then Gullveig, could not understand yet. A new power came to her, the power necessary for her to leave that cursed hole and present herself to Freya as her false loyal servant, ending up being Heid, the goddess of evil and greed who unleashed a war that almost destroyed the gods long before Ragnarök. But that's another story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Högg: Beheading  
> Hyrrokkin: Means "smoked", believed to be a nickname for Heid. During Baldur's funeral the gods find that they cannot move the funeral ship. They then call Hyrrokkin, who arrives mounted on a wolf with reins made of snakes.  
> Eggthér: Angrböda's companion shepherd when she raises her children with Fenrir, Sköll and Hatti. When the cock Fjalar sings the beginning of the Ragnarök, he will joyfully play the harp.  
> Völsung and Hunaland: King who initiates the Völsunga saga, descendant of Odin, murdered by his son-in-law Siggeir and avenged by his sons Sigmund and Signy. Hunaland refers to France  
> Kransen: A band worn by Viking women of high ancestry to indicate their singleness and virginity.  
> Gullveig-Heid: Gullveig is described as a witch who one day came to Asgard claiming gold. The æsir are disgusted by her greed and burn her three times, in the third time reborn as Heid, the goddess vanr of evil and greed, and also a very powerful völva. The vanir get angry with the æsir for having created this goddess of evil (and also within their tribe) and the Æsir-Vanir war begins. Prior to his raids in Asgard, Gullveig had been serving Freya until he tried to sell her to the giants. It is also believed that the heart that Loki eats and that makes for "horrible creatures, the misfortune of the æsir" is none other than that of Heid after being burned (which would also explain her resurrection). Because of these last two stories, several theorists reject the line that Gullveig-Heid is no more than a malignant personality of Freya, but that in truth he was Angrböda (Rydberg), considering that those sons who were "the misfortune of the æsir" were none other than Fenrir, Jörmungandr and Hel  
> Soria Moria: Norwegian fantasy castle, part of an Askeladden story  
> Berserker and Ulfhedinn: A berserker is a warrior immersed in a trance of anger such that he massacres everything he puts in front of him, friend or foe, is immune to iron and burns and is described as the elite guards of several kings. A Ulfhedinn has very similar characteristics, however, they wore wolf skins and howled and bit as such, sometimes giving rise to legends of lycanthropic Ulfhedinn. Both appear in a mythological context as the closest guardians of Odin. Odin also invented an elite guard more related to the vanir gods, the Svinfylking or Sweinkopf (pig's head or wild boar's head) who fought in a formation with the same name.  
> Schionatalunder: This is a character from the Parzival and its prequel Titurel, two works of chivalry situated in the Arthurian cycle of the German author Wolfram von Esenbach. Esenbach was disappointed with the unfinished Perceval of Chrétien de Troyes and wrote his own version in the Parzival, in his case adding German-Scandinavian elements and some even from the legendary medieval and Greek mythology (as seen in the son of the protagonist, Loherangrin, based on the archetype of the Knight of the Swan). According to Esenbach he had pagan and Muslim friends, quoting a certain Koy among them; nowadays the existence of these friends is in debate, although in his works there is a great knowledge of the oriental culture that Esenbach could hardly have. The character in question is a boy called Schionatulander (Schionatalunder is its archaic form, meaning "young warrior", is a name of Norman origin somewhat corrupt) is cited as the lover of Sigun (a corruption of the name Sihgund and that later evolves to Sigyn), a great knight and warrior who dies in a joust after having faced the dragon of Count Orilus (enemy of his father, a name very similar to some German transcriptions of Ullr, as Ollerus, Orellus or even Holderus), which caused jealousy; this death had been predicted by Sigun's dog with his enchanted collar in a language he does not understand but she does (runas?) since she is versed in "astrology" and insists on teaching him those "arts", but he rejected them. Sigun then keeps his embalmed corpse (very similar to the story of some Valkyries) in the tower in which he lives with a friend of his, a witch of the forest. If ever there was such a myth or the like in mythology (perhaps derived from the myth of Adonis, which the Germans liked very much), it is lost (which would not be strange at all). In this story, instead of being a knight of the Round Table, Schionatalunder is a berserker. In a somewhat parodic English ballad, Sigun finally marries Parzival.


	6. Nokkeroser

It had been nearly a year since the first of the deals that brought him to the whirlpool of revelry and murder had ended as violently as it began. At that time he had followed his mother's advice: "You're sixteen years now, you're a man and you have to settle down". Or at least he had tried, or was it really his fault that it was so easy to swipe the coins and deceive the sanctimonius?

That is why he had returned to the corridor of Fárbauti in search of furniture for the home he had built on what he had claimed as his lake. He had to lie to one of Váfthrudnir's guards telling him that he would teach him to play the violin with the same dexterity as he did; he was lucky that he only held him underwater enough for him to faint, not to kill him. He had also been forced to buy a few things, such as a new mattress and two presentable looking chairs. In addition, he was able to sell those in a worse state by improving them a little in appearance with some glamour, and thanks to this he had obtained neither more nor less than twenty silver coins; more than enough to be able to marry.

Because the plan of finally settling down included a wedding. At first Loki thought of going back to the Ironwood to look for the very attractive "Brown Eyes", but not only did he not find her, he also found the right woman on his way. Her name, he had found out, was Lilja, and she was as beautiful as the flower: her hair was blond, her eyes were green, and her smile was innocent. He had watched her soaking her feet in a stream and splashing as she did her laundry, but she had seen him and left very quickly. She must have thought he wanted to drown her, although nothing could be further from the truth.

He had noticed the poor clothes, full of mendings and patches, and the gossip that came and went confirmed his assumption. Well, when they got married, he would give the best clothes and the best dishes to his wife, and they would raise their children together under the water. They could travel to many realms, among them Asgard, where Laufey would be more than happy to receive Lilja and her grandchildren. In addition, he could sell fish and steal bags in the Nine Worlds and be even richer.

The first step in achieving that dream seemed to be talking to the bride's father. He could give the symbolic amount of coins, and he could offer fish. In a show of genius he had applied the technology of Rán's net in where he had been trapped, so that he could capture entire banks. That food would mean the dowry on his part, and he would say that she would not have to put any. To demonstrate his skills he waited for the poor man to arrive at his home and try to catch the animals that were hardly caught after Loki had told them how to escape from the rod.

"It can' t be... there's a great worm as bait..." his future father-in-law complained after a long hour without results.

"May I?" After the approval gesture he quickly got into the boat.

He had not been so stupid as to explain to them how to escape from a net, partly because he didn't know how, partly to impress that man when he took out large piles of fish jumping for oxygen. The objective was accomplished, as he was speechless and did not hesitate to accept the marriage in exchange for the fish that Loki would give him during the happy union.

All he asked was to wait another week, and Lilja would then be eighteen years old. In addition, the bride would get the idea of the marriage and how beneficial it would be for her family. That way Loki could prepare their new home and tell his mother about the good news. The joy that Laufey showed contrasted with the cry of anger and sadness of the fiancée, disgusted at the thought of marrying a nokki. A nokki! She almost preferred a turso that ate her on the wedding night than a subject of Frau Holda who could drown her at any moment.

Unfortunately for Lilja, Loki was the only hope for her father, so that he could have something to put in his mouth. With the fish that were left over, he could make a profit and pay off the debts that drowned them. In that week, Lilja said goodbye to her mother who was already walking through Helgafell, said goodbye to her bird friends and said goodbye to her beloved Tyr Forest. So many times she thought of running away, and so many times her mind and father reminded her of the advantage of marriage that in the end she found herself alone in the house with her best dress and a wreath of flowers on her head.

Her father took her to Laufgroeney, an island that, she knew, was full of many leafy pines. She also knew that on that island had lived a vassal of Váfthrudnir, one of the most powerful and brilliant jötnar of all, called Fárbauti; he and his two good sons had not been able to escape their fate of dying, surely at the hands of the nokki who smiled and greeted on the shore. She looked desperately at her father, who only held out a rusty, blunted sword to the dísir who served as a priestess, and to her a ring in no better condition. Her father had abandoned her.

The huldurfolk introduced himself as Loki Laufeyjarsón, daring to sully the name of the goddess of trees. Though attractive, his eyes betrayed his cursed nature, and she did not understand how there was a woman willing to marry her to such a being. Again, it was the promise of food and the fear of death that spoke when she accepted him in marriage. He did not, however, allow him to kiss her, and he laughed uncomfortably, trying for himself to play down the matter.

Loki handed his father-in-law, the only one present at the ceremony, a bucket of trout. He smiled, shook his hand and did not address his daughter at all. Lilja realized that not only had he abandoned her to her fate, he had sold her to a demon, to a murderer. Her guts were turned upside down and her survival instinct was activated, which led her to look anxiously everywhere in search of some kind of escape; she only saw pointed leaves and trunks coloured with moss. Her now husband took her hand delicately and broke her state of mind by indirectly reminding her that it was now hers.

"Lilja, my love, do you want to see our house? I could still buy any more luxurious object, but I think it's not bad right now."

She could not respond because of the anguish that dominated her. She let herself be carried away by the little forest that had nothing to do with the one she had been living in; a legend told that Tyr had been conceived in that place, Tiveng. What legends could there be, apart from the terrifying one that Loki himself starred in? Not even the birds sang, if there was one! Where had she been thrown?

She did not want that fate. She could divorce, no doubt; but she had no money of her own to get a court to grant her separation out of unhappiness. She could also wait for her husband to mistreat her or not consider her consent, but because of the way he looked at her so sweetly and chattered nonstop did not seem to be his intention. All she had left was the possibility of sexual dissatisfaction or infertility... but the very idea of sleeping with him disgusted her. What if it was he who asked for it? She could mismanage the estate and he would return her to her home! Besides, she had not contributed any dowry, so Loki would not have to return anything.

The obvious problem came to her head: if that happened and the nokki didn't kill her, her father would , as he would have lost that source of income. And because he would receive a woman of less value than before and whom he would have to feed as well. As much as she wanted to convince herself that perhaps he had acted this way for her sake, Lilja knew what had happened as the scene in the cube had confirmed. She was trapped.

"Look, honey, I live under the water of this lagoon. Do you want to see our house? I promise you won't drown because I don't want it that way."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you, obviously," replied Loki with a confused gesture.

"I don't want this!"

"Why not? What can I offer you more? With me you'll have a house, food, clothes, money for everything you want... That's it, I give you all my fidelity, I promise you, I swear it!" He knelt before her, and a lonely ray of light shone on the hilt of the sword.

"I don't want anything from you, you filthy nokki, you fucking huldurfolk!" The tears fell down her cheeks when she finally knew how she could escape from that unwanted marriage, "you'll never have me alive!"

She kicked his face, and when he laid his hands on the wounded area, Lilja grabbed the sword and plunged it into her chest. The body fell into the water with a dull splash. Loki looked at the body of his wife floating: now her beautiful face seemed completely serene, and if it hadn't been for Lævateinn and the blood that dyed everything he would have dared to say that she was only sleeping peacefully. But she didn't: now she would be walking in Gjálabrú under Modgud's gaze, on the way to the judging speaking thrones, if the darkness had not dissipated. Not a pleasant family life around the fire, no wife who received him with a kiss, no children who laughed when his father played with them.

According to the deceased Lilja, someone like him did not deserve it, and maybe she was right. What was the meaning of his life now? Vengeance had been useless, he would never have a normal family and his job had been a nightmare. He remembered his stay with Halewijn and remembered the promise he had made to Odin to steal the Brísingamen. It no longer made sense to stay in Jötunheim and he told himself among all the sobbing that now Loki the Nokki would screw the gods. He removed as best he could the corpse of who had been for such a short time his wife and took her to the corridor in which he had previously lived.

As they burned, Loki sank to the bottom and appeared in Asgard. There, as soon as Laufey heard the news she would not hesitate to hug and kiss her heartbroken son while telling him that she would find him a better wife more suited to him. Tied in her arms he would say nothing at all, only thinking of his future theft, his future loneliness and how he was going to annoy them all because he had been denied happiness. Perhaps, just perhaps, he would think of something when he saw that Lilja's blood had become water lilies.

Or maybe not. Perhaps he would only build a reputation and gradually forget that first love, replaced by others. These would not end in a less violent manner, and in a less violent way he would react in what would be later known as Ragnarök. But, in that moment, that story was far, far away. In that moment, water lilies floated in water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nokkeroser: literally means "nokki's rose". This is the name given to water lilies in Scandinavia by a story similar to the one told: a poor man sells his daughter to a nokki in exchange for food and she commits suicide, and from her blood these plants are born.  
> Coins: In this society it was forbidden to marry if the groom did not collect a symbolic amount of silver coins. This varied according to the zone: in Iceland eight, in Norway 12. In this way they prevented children from being born into families that could not support them.  
> Lilja: It means "lily". The girl in the story has no name.  
> Holda: Also known as Frau Holda or Perchta, is the goddess of female work and snow, queen of the huldurfolk. It was said that she punished vagrant women and rewarded those who knew how to weave (this is how it is maintained in a story collected by the Grimm brothers); also that the snow was that when she cleaned her house she accommodated the pillows and made the goose feathers that were the flakes jump. She was a very persecuted goddess deformed by Christianity, who treated her like an evil witch who claimed for herself the souls of children aborted or dead before baptism or even ate them herself (perhaps she was at some point a goddess of death who picked up children who died in abortions). She is also the goddess of Wild Hunting next to Odin. She could be the wife of Ullr (whose name has many very different variations, including Holderus or Holder), god of hunting, skis, male beauty, winter and death by hypothermia.  
> Dísir: Any supernatural female being, whatever it may be, is a dís.  
> Tiveng: It's a real place in Sweden, where the story of the nokki and the suicidal girlfriend takes place. It means "forest of Tyr" or "forest of the god", and it was one of the frontiers between Swedes and Geats.

**Author's Note:**

> Fedgar: It means "Father and children".  
> Muspil: Fire Giant  
> Sjórisar: Water giant  
> Hrimthur: Giant of ice or air  
> Laugh: Mountain Giant  
> Etin: Giant representing an abstract concept  
> Turso: Rock giantwith very low intelligence, in other cases refers to monsters such as Fenrir or Jörmungandr.  
> Seid: Shamanic magic very related to sex, especially with being penetrated.  
> Laufgroeney: It means "green island leaf".  
> Njál: Means "needle"; Laufey is so short and thin that she looks like a needle  
> Fensalir: Less known than Valhalla or Helheim, belongs to Frigg (here equated with Freya) and receives the pious.  
> Nokki: A kind of goblin in German-Scandinavian mythology and folklore. They are similar to sirens. The feminine is Nixe.  
> Huldurfolk: One of the Nordic equivalents to fae-folk, they belong to the jötnar.  
> Gróa: German-Scandinavian witch, it is said that Thor avoided a forced marriage with King Gram and when she went to remove some stones embedded in his head after the fight against Hrungnir, she left the spell half done; mother of Od (whom she helps to conquer Freya), wife of Aurvandil the Brave. For reasons of history, here she is equated with Bestla


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